Free Hunt Beyond the Frozen Fire by Christa Faust, Gabriel Hunt Page A

attitude, and he wasn’t about to turn down an offer for help. “All right. The rest of you stay here in the Spryte till we come back with a rescue team. We’ll go as quickly as we can.”
    “Don’t go quickly,” Rue said. “Go safely.”
    “That, too,” Gabriel said. “But in this weather, slow’s not safe. Not for any of us.”
    Nils reached into his jacket and fished out a poker hand of Hershey bars from an inner pocket. “Before you go. Some calories.”
    Gabriel grabbed two of the bars, passed one to Velda. They were rock hard.
    “Break it into squares,” Nils said, “and hold each square in your mouth until it’s warm enough to chew.”
    Gabriel did as Nils suggested, sucking on the chocolate in the icy blue twilight. In the depths of the crevasse, out of the shrieking wind on the surface, they were cocooned in a churchlike silence. It was tempting to stay here, huddled together for warmth. But it wouldn’t take long for the chocolate to run out, and, shortly after that, the warmth.
    “Right,” Gabriel said around the last mouthful of chocolate. “Let’s see if we can free up that gear.”
    Velda’s pack came free fairly easily from the rear of the Spryte but the remaining three were stuck fast, clenched in the crumpled metal as if between teeth. Millie was able to reach his pack and unzip it a few inches. He emptied it of a few smaller items through the opening, passed them to Gabriel. The other two packs were hopelessly inaccessible.
    Gabriel and Velda strapped themselves into climbing harnesses and Gabriel readied a pick in one hand.
    Rue, meanwhile, was poking around the ruined dashboard. “I might be able to get the heat up and running in here,” she said. “But I’m afraid that would melt the ice around us and send us who knows how much farther down.”
    “Don’t do it unless you absolutely have to,” Gabriel said.
    “We’ll be fine,” Nils said. “Just come back swiftly.”
    Gabriel pushed himself up, using the back of the driver’s seat for leverage. He was about to stick his head out through the smashed rear window when Velda said, “Wait, what’s that sound?”
    The team was silent, listening. Gabriel heard nothing at first and then a low, distant rumble that grew rapidly louder and louder.
    “Oh, no,” Nils said.
    “What?” Gabriel said.
    His voice was a whisper. “Avalanche.”

Chapter 10
    Before Gabriel could react, a crushing wave of jagged ice slammed into the Spryte with the impact of a speeding train, wedging the vehicle down deeper into the crevasse and blotting out the pale, distant sun. Several smaller chunks of ice smashed down through the broken window before one too large to fit sealed it up completely.
    The rumbling grew fainter and more muffled as more and more ice piled up on top of the Spryte. Eventually it ceased. The Spryte’s battered steel hull groaned and creaked in protest against the added weight.
    “Jesus,” Millie said softly.
    “All right,” Gabriel said. “Change of plans.” He shone the flashlight down through the front windshield, revealing the outlines of a narrow black chasm below them. “If we can’t go up, we have to go down. We’ll rappel down to the bottom, see if there isn’t a way up and around the piled-up ice.”
    “If there is a bottom,” Rue said.
    “Spoken like a true optimist,” Millie muttered.
    “Tie a rope to the frame of the Spryte,” Nils said. “Those without harnesses can just slide down.”
    “Good idea.” Gabriel tossed a length of neon green rope to Velda, who swiftly knotted it to the frame. Gabriel made his way down to the windshield and with one swift kick knocked the glass from its frame. He listened to its fall. One second, two…then the crash as it splintered against the ice. There was a bottom.
    Velda came down beside him, aiming the flashlight through the windshield. “Here,” she said, “hold this,” and handed him the light. “I’ll go first.”
    Normally, Gabriel might have